“Probably all of it—freedom, power, and escape.” She nestled closer to him, thinking to herself that she still sought escape and freedom, but now she sought it in Jayce’s arms. When she’d started dating him, when he had looked at her and seen her, she’d thought she could have everything she wanted with him. Tonight, though, thinking about Maili had made her accept that she hadn’t been truthful with herself for a long time. Quietly, she told him, “I didn’t admit that I wanted power back then. I didn’t need to because Shy had the power, and he was no threat to me.”

“And now?” he prompted, and she realized that he knew. He had seen her confrontation with Sionnach, a fight that could’ve easily become a challenge for Alpha.

“Now I need to keep Maili from having power and keep Keenan from messing with my freedom.”

Rika needed to go out into the desert and let the faeries see her. Since Sionnach wasn’t up to it, they’d decided that she needed to be the reminder that there were faeries stronger than Maili. That meant leaving Jayce behind for his safety. Walking through the desert had always helped clear Rika’s mind, but she now felt strangely off-kilter being alone. Being with Jayce and Sionnach lately had reminded her that she used to like being around others. Years ago, the solitary life she’d led when she first became fey had been hard, more so because she’d never been on her own until then, even more so because she’d wanted to be with Keenan in the throng of frolicking faeries that made up the Summer Court. Over time, though, she’d grown accustomed to isolation and to the quiet that came with being the Winter Girl, but she’d never chosen that life. She admitted now that choosing to be alone in the desert may have been a way to protect herself from the devastation that she’d felt when her loneliness had been beyond her control. If one chose to be alone, it was easier than being forced into it—at least that was what she’d told herself.

As she walked, she saw humans scaling the rocks. In the desert, climbers were as common as coyotes. They were part of the landscape. Mortals from all over came to the Mojave to climb and to hike. She’d learned not to notice them overmuch. These mortals were surrounded by faeries though, and she couldn’t help but think of how Jayce had fallen.

In a blur of motion, she ran toward them. “Back off.”

The mortals, of course, didn’t react: this time, she’d remembered to stay invisible.

A faery who looked very much like a barrel cactus, squat and whisker-covered, stepped into her path. “Since when is it your business what we do?”

“Since I decided it was.”